


rise of the lord of flames

by VentusBDaPlayer



Category: Granblue Fantasy (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Coming Out, Gen, Trans Male Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-14
Updated: 2019-01-14
Packaged: 2019-10-10 05:13:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,543
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17419730
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VentusBDaPlayer/pseuds/VentusBDaPlayer
Summary: snippets of an au where percival is trans. contains canon divergent material.





	rise of the lord of flames

**Author's Note:**

> **!! warning for misgendering narrative for most of this chapter !!**
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> this au is self-indulgent from start to end and i am so sorry  
> percival is 8, lamorak is 11 and aglovale is 13.
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> update: i've decided to discontinue this piece due to my severe lack of time, and as a result i have taken down chapter 2. to read it, it has been archived on [pastebin](https://pastebin.com/AdyLJHpC).

“How many times have I told you? You can’t hold a sword, you’re a woman.”

“Leave your brothers be for now, Percy. They’ll be done training soon, so let’s pick out the strawberries for them in the meantime, okay?”

_Was this really fine?_

“I can’t let you into my room, little sister—The strategy books I have in there won’t be interesting to you.”

_This wasn’t fine._

“Don’t pout, Percy! Maybe some other time, then you can learn healing magic with me!”

_When did it stop being fine?_

The House of Wales is a chipper home that wifts of peace; a family of aristocrats that leads their small kingdom into a future with every bout of happiness they can deliver. The ideals they uphold has never once stopped at just the countrymen too, their current bloodline holding the privilege of being born to a loving family where bouts of neverending joy would depart the residence on a daily basis—

Except for the steadily growing discomfort within their youngest daughter of eight years, a sign that not even its rulers, Sir Ghamuret and Lady Herzeloyde, would pick up on until it showed up directly at their doors.

_Knock knock._

“Big brother Lamorak, can I enter?”

“Percy? Yeah, come in!”

The middle of the three Wales siblings was chipper; full of energy even in his pre-teenage years. He hops off his bed, the sounds of his moderately hastened steps was enough to display the excitement within his heart—although more so for the sudden presence of his younger sister than for the incoming conversation they were about to have—trailing right to the entrance where she stood.

“Um—”

“This is rare—you almost never want to visit me yourself,” Lamorak begins chattering right away, failing to hear the other’s hesitation. “What brings you here today, my favourite little strawberry?”

“Um, uh— Big brother—” Percival was struggling with words; she had been preparing for this moment for days, no, it should be a week by now, but she too knows no amount of practice could ever compare to experience.

_What were the words?_

_How should she say it?_

_What if the feeling was all in her mind?_

She’s panicking, the view of her brunet sibling blurring into lines, she suddenly doesn’t know what to say—even if she did select the most carefree within the House of Wales to speak of this first, she’s still so afraid of _rejection_.

She doesn’t want to lose the days with her family yet—the days she would sit by big brother Aglovale’s side playing duets on the piano, the days she would plot with big brother Lamorak to give big brother Aglovale a scare of his lifetime, the days she would pick out the freshest strawberries from the House’s plantations—everyone praising her for her ever diligent effort in everything—

_What if this feeling was going to destroy all of it?_

“Percy?”

It takes Lamorak’s words to snap her out of her daze, and it takes until now for her to realise just how _hard_ she was breathing, her figure practically shaking—

“It’s okay, Percy. I don’t know what you’re scared about, but Aggy and I have sworn to be your guardians a long time ago—we’ll crush whatever that’s hurting our beloved Wales princess!”

“That… That’s the problem, big brother Lamorak,” she mouths out, the fright in her containing most of her volume—blood was beginning to rush into her head, and the beats of her heart echoing right into her ears. “I don’t want to be a princess.”

“... Eh?”

The older sibling tilts his head playfully, except Percival knew well that he was taking this seriously. His gaze was sharper than it typically was, ruby pearls almost like hands reaching out for her heart—

“I… I want to be by big brother Aglovale and big brother Lamorak’s side, not to be protected but to protect! I want to be a man, just like the both of you…”

—and yet, it carried the same, gentle loving eyes he always had for her.

Was it going to stay?

“Percy.”

Percival looks up—Lamorak was now closing the distance between them, his expression seemingly beginning to lower. The second she registers that she shuts her eyes, believing that her fate had been sealed—that even her most easygoing relative was not going to support her.

Of course, of course she had been too hopeful all this time—

Losing restraint she weeps, tears filled with shattered expectations.

“It’s okay if you—you can’t—view me the same way as before now, so—”

“No, Percy, please, don’t cry—I just want to know more—”

When she cracks her eyes back open she notices the brunet’s hands on her shoulders, gripping onto them tightly. Tears continue to uncontrollably roll off her cheeks, but her gasps soon becomes less erratic with the vision of Lamorak right before her coming back to view; his expression smeared not with the disappointment she was expecting, instead with concern… she could swear he was on the edge of crying, too.

“This isn’t just because Papa hasn’t been letting you train with us, right?”

Choked inhale.

 _No, that's not it_ —hearing those words the panic in her instantaneously returns in full force. She doesn't want to _just fit in_ , _she’s fitting in just fine_ —this wasn’t merely an issue of feeling left out, and she knows that, she wants Lamorak to know that—

“No, big brother!” She finally manages after countless of repeated heated breaths. “I’ve really been thinking about it for a long time now, for so many years—I love reading books and sewing clothes with Mama while you and big brother Aglovale are out practicing, but—” her eyebags reddened from the constant snivelling—“it never once felt right… I always felt like I was a boy born with the permission to become a princess instead, and it’s, it’s so unfair—”

But almost too casually Lamorak shrugs his hands off, signalling for Percival to stop explaining herself; perhaps he had caught onto how much she was struggling to get her words across, but she would never know how he was actually feeling.

“Okay, yeah—Um, sorry. I don’t know anything about this stuff, so I guess I asked something kinda insensitive,” the brunet scratches at his temple, visibly confused and unsure of how to take in this entire situation, “but… these are your feelings, so—as your big brother, I’m gonna believe in all of it, ‘kay?”

Percival’s stifled hiccups, now without any strength to fight back, fills the room; she was completely unsure of what she should be doing after having her expectations of Lamorak pushing her away shattered—regardless, the familial love and trust the older brother held in her was unwavering; that much was clear when he picks up her more delicate hands in his, locking their fingers together. Then much like the morning sunshine—

“And because I believe in you, from today on you’ll be Percy, my little brother!”

—That instant was all it took; everything that resolved around Percival’s world transformed into a lightbulb fixing itself, shining brighter than all darkness surrounding it—

His little brother.

That’s right.

 _He_ was Lamorak’s _little brother_.

It seems the look written across him had said it all for Lamorak, his ever so endearing big grin back on his lips as he leaps forward, grasping Percival tightly in his arms. The redhead’s automatic reaction would be to complain of his weight and how his actions seem to never grow alongside his age, except a damp sensation collecting on his shoulder distracts him before he could even open his mouth to protest. He raises his head to look at his brother then, confirming what it was that he felt, and what presents him delivers more surprise than disapproval—

“Percy, it’s been just a minute, but you look fresher now, I… I don't know how to say it, it’s got a really natural feeling… I'm really happy for you, too!”

Those words, their warmth, and the ridiculous amount of snot Lamorak was letting out between each sniffle—they carried the final key to tearing away every last bit of fear from Percival’s system, much like layers unpeeling themselves to welcome a new path in his life—a path that he knows will be much less lonelier than the previous.

A path of freedom.

His cries this time were for Lamorak, for the incoming relief that overloads his body. For several minutes the two brothers remained huddled up by the door, unleashing the remains of their emotions with soft wails.

Eventually the sounds fade into a deafening silence, the two failing to find a reason to break the mood; another string of minutes pass before Lamorak releases his younger brother off his arms, his nose and cheeks and, everything, streaked in an embarrassing shade of red.

“Say, Percy?”

“What is it, big brother Lamorak?”

Curiously tilting his round, preteen face, the snot filled child widens his smile, posing a final, lingering question.

“You’re still my favourite little strawberry, right?”

 _Favourite little strawberry._ Percival bursts into giggles at those words—that’s right, _those_ words. The words that made Percival still Percival, no matter what he felt about himself.

“Mhm… Yeah!”


End file.
